


Psychosis

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Author has psychosis, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Schizophrenia, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27256684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: For as long as Peter could remember, reality did not come to him easily.You see, his plan for the day (like many other days when he just couldn’t seem to figure out if the figures that passed him in the hall were apparitions) had been simple1: wake up, get dressed, don’t listen to them2: go to school, pass his history exam, don’t spare a second glance towards the people that just quite didn’t fit3: go to the lab, greet tony (who knew very little of his mental health already) and work on reactors for the springs in new suits4: don’t listen to them.(Originally posted as part of a longer series but I didn’t like it)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 134





	Psychosis

**Author's Note:**

> so I have depressed schizophrenia and I’ve never seen a fanfic with peter having a psychotic breakdown so I thought I’d give it my best go! Let me know what u think!!

For as long as Peter could remember, reality did not come to him easily.

You see, his plan for the day (like many other days when he just couldn’t seem to figure out if the figures that passed him in the hall were apparitions) had been simple

1: wake up, get dressed, don’t listen to them

2: go to school, pass his history exam, don’t spare a second glance towards the people that just quite didn’t fit

3: go to the lab, greet tony (who knew very little of his mental health already) and work on reactors for the springs in new suits

4: don’t listen to them.

It had been so simple, you’d of thought. But not for Peter. No, his brain just had to make things difficult. Had to make him question every step he took, had to make him breathe with caution because god fucking damnit what if it was the last breath he took? But now, here he sat in mathematics, shaking in his seat, arms folded over his chest, just trying to survive every 5 minutes.

When had he messed up?

Could it have been during home room, when after walking to class the bell scared him shitless and nearly sent him fumbling to the floor? When the other students had laughed at the way he tripped over his words. “Peter— Parker. Peter Parker. Here” he had said when his name was called. How could he have messed up something as easy as attendance?

Or was it during lunch, when the line got blurry and someone walked up to him (or did they?) and he had to catch himself so he wouldn’t respond to the question of “do you know where the bathroom is?” As to not embarrass himself. Rule number one: never speak back to them. (That’s what the wikihow article he’d read had told him. It also told him to watch out for ghostly sightings, so maybe not a good source, now that he was thinking about it.) the girl had looked at him weird when he didn’t respond, only staring at her blankly.

Maybe it was in the middle of 6th bell, when he had looked at the corner of the hallway (rule number 2: never look in places where they could easily hide) and saw a rat. Just a small one, but big enough to be, well, a rat. This time, He had alerted the aid that there was a mouse scurrying across the corridor of their esteemed school. But his cheeks flared up when he realized that didn’t make sense. He’d looked through the camera on his phone to realize that there was no rat. No nothing. His mind was playing tricks on him. Stupid Parker.

Either way, one thing led to another. Things piled up, like a snow ball that turned into a snow man that turned into a snow monster and suddenly there’s not enough snow in the yard to finish your creation and you have go inside, take off your winter coat and look at the pathetic little thing melt away. And, all shitty experiences considered, it was just an awful day, man. He wanted to curl up into his blankets where only the voices could get to him. Where the visual clouds of haze didn’t rain terror upon his waking body. It was an odd feeling; familiar, but not one that he could say he felt particularly often these days. The crushing weight on his chest, more painful than any curse, incantation or cracked rib could ever hope to be. He wanted out, god he just wanted out. Wanted to be back home, away from all of this. Back with may who understood. (Or at least she tried, she didn’t know what to do most times but she tried and hell if that wasn’t enough for him) but may was working, and he couldn’t go home early.

he knew there were medications for things like this. But he’d never opened up to his therapist, only told her the tip of the iceberg to save face. It was stupid of him, he knew that much, but he’d convinced himself that he had a reputation to uphold. 

Then again, there was always Mr. Stark.

No, no he couldn’t bother the millionaire with his silly teenage escapades. He wouldn’t know what to do. His hands would get clammy and he’d break down- he wasn’t a baby.  
  
He wasn’t going to call Mr. stark

“May I go to the bathroom?” Peter eventually asked, hands digging into his thighs, blunt nails scraping against the corse fabric of his black jeans. The teacher nodded and he was off.

On his way there he saw several other students, but of course he ignored them. they couldn’t be real, he was starting to lose his grip again. It felt like all the cameras in the hallways were pointing directly at him. He wondered if the aids were sitting in the break room, staring at those cameras: staring at him. He stalled himself and tried taking a deep breathe, he wasn’t even to the bathroom yet and there was no time to freak out over paranoid delusions.

The moment he got into the restroom he was on his knees, chest heaving. It felt like someone had shoved a bag of bricks onto his back. He didn’t know what to do. Who to call. Where to go. So he went with his last and only option

The phone rung exactly two times before he heard the familiar voice of his mentor

“Kid? Aren’t you supposed to be in school? Slacking off are we” there was a light tone to Tony’s voice, he was clearly not in a hurry. Good.

“Yea uhm, about that.....” he waited several seconds to no answer but he could guess tony was getting impatient. Damn peter and his need for reassurance at all waking hours.

“About that...?” Tony asked

“Could you uh, like, pick me up from school maybe? It’s like, no big deal if you’re not up for it but I was just wondering if you could maybe- I’m not having a- it’s like, I think I’m having an... another episode? Wait shit right you don’t know abou-“

“Woah kid, slow down” tony eased, his tone suddenly laced with a fine string of worry “why do you need me to pick you up? You’re having an ‘episode’? An episode of what peter?”

Peter took a deep breathe. He could either hang up and get the scolding of his lifetime in his already dazed and shaky state or he could be open about his problem. “Oh- I’m sorry, I have like,, I have this thing where I don’t quite, uh, I don’t quite know what’s real or not? Or something.”

Tony stalled. “You’re having a _psychotic_ episode Peter?”

“Well I wouldn’t call it tha-“

tony cut him off before he could amend himself “I’ll be there in five”

Peter only sighed to himself, slumping further down the wall. He had really fucked himself over this time hadn’t he? He quickly walked back to class, lying to his teacher about having a doctors appointment- much to her dismay. But, she let him go with a stern warning to never take so long in the bathroom for “whatever reason that may be” gross.

And tony was right, not 5 minutes later did he see a black sports car pulling up in the lot, a worried tony stepping out and guiding Peter to the car. He felt like a kid again, and not in a good way. Making his mentor come all the way out here because he couldn’t handle the sick spit words of his brain’s creation and the people that would never click. Peter buckled in and they sat in silence on the ride to the tower.  
It was quick- barely took them anything at all to get there with the way happy drove with urgency. God damnit, had tony told him? He figured tony had told him. He really did himself in this time, Parker luck he guessed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony frowned, eyebrows creased in worry

“I don’t know, i just— I didn’t think it was important? You shouldn’t have to... you shouldn’t have to deal with my issues Mr. Stark.” Mr. stark looked at him like he’d just been burned, arms crossed across his chest and sitting on a stool in the lab.

“Peter. You had an episode of psychosis, this isn’t something to be taken lightly- did you think of how this could affect Spider-Man? Could affect _you_? I need to know these things kid. It’s not healthy for either of us” Peter nodded, felt tears welling up in his eyes.

“You’re right- I’m sorry. I just... I thought you’d be mad..”

“Mad? Why? Mad at you for being sick? Peter, I would never judge you. No matter what problems you’re facing.”

“I know... it’s just- nothing. Thank you, Mr. stark”

“No problem kid, you feeling alright?” Tony stood up, placing a hand on peter’s shoulder.

And for once peter was honest. “Not really, no”

tony patted him on the back while walking past him “why don’t we get you to bed for now, and then see if you’re feeling better?” Peter nodded, following after Mr. Stark.


End file.
